The Color Blue

Sadness,

is not the color of blue,

to me.

It's a golden sheet of metal,

olden,

almost rusted.

A little faint but still there,

you can still see it,

even with the dull reflection,

you're still in it.

The gold's,

not truly gold, though, you see,

fool's gold,

if you must,

but there's nothing foolish in love.

Holding memories, holding memories,

they're still shining,

ignited.

The sheet's dull,

but it's not hiding.

Engulfed in the memory,

of the best of you.